She is about to wake up from her nap, so I don't have much time. She is beautiful, joyful, and affectionate. She is funny. She is grieving. She is feisty. She loves pink, and accessories. She loves chicken, and mangoes. She can make her brother smile instantly. When she is near him, and I am holding him, I can feel his heart rate slow down.
She is mine and I am hers.
This is my son Melese...
He is, as suspected, a chunk of love. A love so chunky, that it cannot be contained in a baby legs leg warmer. He is sweet, and smiley. He is a velcro baby and cannot be put down. He much prefers donated breast milk over sugary orphanage formula. He loves his sister more than anyone. His eyes are huge, and he already knows how to kiss on the lips.
He is mine and I am his.
There is joy.
